


Horror 101

by amusewithaview



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Pop Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:00:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: Everything I know about survival I learned from watching horror movies.





	1. Horror 101

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tthfanfic on 28 Feb 2010 - 29 June 2011.
> 
> https://www.tthfanfic.org/wholestory.php?no=21671#chapter1

Giles looked up as his door slowly started to open. No knock meant it must be one of the 'original' Scoobies and as the majority of his adopted children were elsewhere, it must be Dawn. She entered his office slowly, lips moving soundlessly while she frowned down at some papers. She moved forward to the chair across from his desk automatically, never once looking up from the stack of documents in her hands.  
  
"Was there something you needed, Dawn?" Giles asked patiently. The younger Summers was the head of the New Council's business holdings, having merged Willow's love of technology and information with Anya's adoration of figures and the free market to become a terrifyingly efficient businesswoman.  
  
"Hmm? Oh yes, take a look at these figures," she held out the topmost sheet of paper, a spreadsheet.  
  
"Dawn..." the ex-librarian blinked owlishly, "what precisely am I looking at, here?"  
  
"A breakdown of Slayer-team casualties and its correlation with the training they've received, there's been a recent downswing in injuries and apocalypse-related deaths in all of the North American squads, but no-where else."  
  
"Fewer casualties is always a good thing," he muttered, leaning forward to inspect the paper more closely. It was no use. Give him books and long-dead demonic languages from the nth dimension any day, spreadsheets were and would always remain a mystery.  
  
"Yes, but I can't figure out _why_ there are fewer casualties," Dawn whined, sounding so much like her teenage self that Giles physically started. "I mean," she continued, "a lot of the Slayers who're doing better are coming out of Andrew's little retreat-facility, but a little holiday wouldn't explain these numbers!"  
  
"Maybe Andrew is offering some additional training?" Giles postulated idly.  
  
" _Andrew?_ Really?"  
  
"Point." He sighed, rubbing his hand tiredly through his hair, "Perhaps we could ask one of the 'improved' Slayers what she and her team have been doing differently?" Seeing Dawn's satisfied smile, he rolled his eyes: "You've already sent for one of them, haven't you? Why did you need me, exactly?"  
  
"Aw, c'mon Giles!" She smiled winningly, "It just doesn't have that student-called-to-the-principal's office effect when I do it!"  
  
"Quite." There was a knock at the door: "Come in."  
  
The young woman who entered was one of the younger Slayers, probably around seventeen or so, with dark brown hair pulled back into a messy bun and bright blue eyes. "You called, sir?" her voice was low and more than a trace of nervousness was apparent.  
  
"Yes, Lori," Dawn answered, "don't worry, you're not in trouble. We just have a few questions for you." The Slayer looked anything but relieved, but smiled gamely and came fully into the room, standing at parade rest before the two.  
  
"We've noticed a recent downswing in casualties from your group," Giles said, taking charge. "Have you changed anything in your operations?" Aside from wanting to know what, if anything, Andrew had done, Giles was genuinely curious: anything that reduced the number of names that had to be carved on the Council's memorial stones was a good thing in his book.  
  
Lori actually smiled, "We've been following Andrew's Rules for Survival."  
  
" _'Rules for Survival'_?" Giles asked weakly.  
  
Dawn shot him an 'I told you so' look, "What are these rules, exactly?"  
  
Lori recited them as if by rote, "Number one: redshirts always die. Number two: blondes die next. Number three: if you have to go within grabbing distance to check if it's dead, it's not. Number four: the black guy dies after the blonde - "  
  
Dawn held up a hand, "We get the picture. Andrew's taking rules from horror movies and - " she winced, " - Star Trek. Why are you _following_ them?"  
  
Lori grinned, "Because they work! Red attracts vampires and it's harder to tell if someone is injured if their blood is the same color as their shirt. Blonde hair is too shiny and catches the light a lot, our girls have started wearing hats to cover it up and boy-howdy does it work! You'd be surprised how many critters 'play dead' and double-checking never hurt anyone. That last rule... well, a lot of the older vampires in America especially were turned between the thirties and seventies, they tend to not take too well to the idea that a black girl is attacking them with intent to slay."  
  
"Interesting," Dawn said, her analytical mind working overtime and Giles just _knew_ that her next project would focus on the ethnicities of vampires and projected likely prey. "How many rules are there?"  
  
"About fifteen right now, but Mr. Wells comes up with more almost once a week."  
  
"Why once a week?"  
  
"New movies come out on Friday."  
  
Giles sighed, "I had to ask."


	2. Rule #16

**Strange noises are caused by strange _things_. Investigate with backup.  
(Kumoatsu/ EllandrahSylver)**

* * *

 

"Did you hear that?"  
  
"Hear what?"  
  
Corinne paused, head tilted slightly to the side as she listened intently.  
  
_Skitter-skitter-CLOMP!_  
  
She turned to her companion, "THAT. Did you hear that?"  
  
Lori nodded, frowning. "Check it out?"  
  
"Sure, I'll go." The blonde started to gather up her jacket but stopped at the hand on her arm.  
  
"What's the rule, cadet?"  
  
"Wha – oh. _Oh!_ " Corinne's eyes widened, "Rule #16: Never without backup?"  
  
"And Rule #7: Strange noises are strange for a reason." Lori smiled at the younger Slayer, "This is why I'm the Lieutenant and you're the cadet. Don't worry, you'll have 'em all memorized soon. Cover up your hair and lets go."


	3. More Rules to Live By

** If you hear dramatic, suspenseful music, just leave.  
(All rules in this chapter suggested by Tactless.) **

* * *

  
  
"Is that… what I think it is?"  
  
"Ominous mood music? Uh-huh."  
  
"So we should – "  
  
"Just go." The older of the two Slayers gave the dilapidated house a searching look. "We'll come back when it's light out and bring a whole squad. Full battle gear with concealment spells," she informed her subordinate.  
  
"That sounds kind of like overkill for one wannabe-baddie."  
  
"The ones who take the time to plan out a theme-song are usually the most dangerous."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Read the archives on the Trio, or better yet – ask Admiral Andrew."

* * *

** Never split up. Ever. **

* * *

"What happened?"  
  
"She went to check out something on her own."  
  
"And you _let_ her?"  
  
"Hey! Super-powerful teenager there! I don't _let_ her do anything!"  
  
The other Slayer growled, a threatening and slightly animalistic sound, grabbing the young witch assigned to her team by the collar of her shirt and yanking her close. "I don't care what sort of crap you've learned from the _others_ but out here we follow the Admiral's rules. You _never_ let a teammate wander away, for _any_ reason. She needs to take a shit, then _you_ need to take a shit. Use a fucking magical _tether_ , I don't _care_. _You don't split up, EVER._ " She released the by-now trembling witch with a look of disgust. "Her death is on _your_ head, redshirt."

* * *

**Silly superstitions _aren't_.**

* * *

Lori counted the number of people in her squad and scowled. "Alright guys, we've got thirteen here. Who's gonna volunteer to sit this one out?" She nodded in approval as two of the newer additions to the squad, girls who were already taking Admiral Andrew's words to heart, raised their hands.  
  
A Slayer from Cleveland pushed her way to the front, "Why does someone need to drop? The more the merrier for a Slayfest!"  
  
"Who trained you?"  
  
"Kennedy," the girl drew herself up proudly, "one of the Sunnydale survivors."  
  
Mutterings of 'idiot' and 'redshirt' rose from the assembled girls and Lori shook her head. "Alright ladies," she said, addressing the crowd, "what's Rule #13?"  
  
"Silly superstitions _aren't_ ," came back in dutiful chorus.  
  
The Cleveland Slayer frowned, hands on hips: "What's the big deal?"  
  
"If you have an odd number of people than you can't use the buddy system. We _live_ by the buddy system out here."  
  
"Well, we never used the buddy system in Cleveland," the other girl said, folding her arms.  
  
Lori grinned darkly, "Then you'll _die_ by the buddy system."  
  
There were no more arguments after that.

* * *

** The person added to the group because of their specialized knowledge will not survive the trip. **

* * *

"We can send you one of our language experts," Dawn offered over the phone.  
  
Silence came from the other end before a tentative, "Never mind. We'll figure it out."  
  
The Key frowned, "They're very good. I promise."  
  
"Oh no, I believe you," Andrew assured her, "but we don't like to add new people all suddenlike. It messes up the rhythm the girls have going and besides, Candice has been studying really hard to bring her language-skills up on par with her witchy skills so she can be well-rounded and this would just be a slap in the – "  
  
"Andrew."  
  
"… yeah?"  
  
"You could've just said that it went against one of your rules. I've seen how they work and Giles and I support you completely," Dawn told him. She smiled, "We're trying to figure out how to implement them across the globe but we're… having a little trouble."  
  
"I know," the blonde Watcher told her, "the girls have been telling me."  
  
Dawn nodded, though her couldn't see it over the phone. "Oh, one more thing."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
" _Admiral_ Andrew? _Really?"_

* * *

** Sex kills. **

* * *

Corinne stood in front of the assembled Slayers with a fiery glint in her eyes. "This is a tragedy," she told them, beginning to wrap up the eulogy she had given for the two Slayers who had died, "and a learning experience. We _all_ experience the two H's. _All_ of us, it is nothing to be ashamed of but there is a _time_ and a _place_. Neither of those are in the middle of a mission up against a mausoleum. What happened to Katie and Dara was sad, yes. Tragic, even. But it was their own _fucking_ fault. We will mourn them, we will learn from them, and we will _never lose a sister Slayer the same way again_."

* * *

** Never, EVER, back down a hallway or through a door. **

* * *

Lacey looked at the long gash down Emma's back and frowned, "Friendly fire?"  
  
The Slayer shook her head slowly, making sure not to let her hair obstruct the medic's view. "Um, no. Not friendly fire. I, um, might have been facing the wrong way." She felt the medic pause and winced in preparation when two hands gripped her shoulders and forcibly turned her around.  
  
"You were _facing the wrong way?_ "  
  
"Um… yeah," Emma nodded, a flush rising in her cheeks.  
  
Lacey took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, counting to ten quietly while the injured Slayer fidgeted before her. "I'm not going to lecture you," she said through slightly clenched teeth. "I'm _not_ ," she repeated, seeing the dubious look on Emma's face. "That," she pointed to the injury, "is a good punishment for now. But _you're_ going to have to explain to the Admiral how you wrecked his convention shirt."  
  
"Shit," Emma muttered, eyes wide. "Can I have a lecture instead?!"  
  
"Nuh-uh, you're gonna have to deal with him."  
  
"But – but he'll be so _disappointed_."  
  
"And sad," Lacey reminded her. "Don't forget how sad he'll be. He really loved that shirt."  
  
"Shit," Emma said again. "This sucks."

* * *

** If you go on a mission with a new group, always make sure everyone knows your first AND last names. **

* * *

"What's she doing?" Buffy asked her sister surreptitiously as she watched the newest addition to her advanced reconnaissance squad move through the ranks, introducing herself to everyone. The blonde Slayer frowned, "This isn't time for lets-make-friends, we've got a serious demonic incursion on our hands."  
  
"Incursion?"  
  
Buffy flushed, "Giles bought me a word-of-the-day calendar."  
  
"Ah. Emma's not trying to make friends, she's following Andrew's rules."  
  
The oldest Slayer rolled her eyes, "That crock? Someone told me he's got them using ranks from Star Trek or Wars or something like that. I _told_ Giles that he shouldn't put Andrew in charge of summer Slay camp this year. He's gonna corrupt the – " Buffy frowned, "Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
Dawn's eyes were icy, "Did you even _look_ at that packet I sent you, or did you just see Andrew's name and dump it in the trash?" Ignoring her sister's attempt at speech, she went on, "Andrew's rules are saving lives. The girl's he has trained have a mortality rate that is 29% lower than everyone else's and 37% lower than _yours_ , sister mine."  
  
Buffy's mouth gaped open for a moment, then shut with a click. "Send me the packet again," she said, using her 'command' voice. Dawn didn't object to the tone, she knew her sister well and she could see that her words had had an effect. She could see that 37% was dancing in front of her sister's eyes and she would but money that Andrew would have a new convert by the end of the week.  
  
_Now, if I could just get the Cleveland group on board,_ she thought.


	4. Vampires Are Tricky

**If the vampire does not turn to dust, it's not dead. Or not a vampire.  
(All rules in this chapter suggested by Blackrosewolf.)**

* * *

"Poof, darn you!" Tina was staring at the writhing body on the ground with confusion evident in her green eyes. The stake had gone into his heart smooth as butter… that had ribs. Rib butter? Whatever, the slaying had been going great except he wasn't going all dust-like!  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
Tina pointed at the twitching body, then jumped in surprise and pain as a hand smacked her none-too-gently on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?" She rubbed her head and glared balefully at her twin, "You've been watching _way_ too many episodes of NCIS."  
  
"The plots are good and the characters intriguing. Also, you're an idiot."  
  
"Why am I an idiot?"  
  
"Because _that_ , oh twin of mine, is _not_ a vampire."  
  
"Oh. What is it then?"  
  
"Keshvalut demon. Kill by beheading. Honestly, don't you _read_ the mission specifics before you sign up? Does this look like your usual vamp hideyhole to you?"  
  
She glanced around the posh, _brightly lit and mirror bedecked_ hotel and flushed, "Um… no?"  
  
"No." Antonia sighed, "You're an idiot."

* * *

** Never date a vampire. Unless previously approved by the Council Heads. **

* * *

"Is Emma still pouting?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"'Cuz they said 'no'?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Did they kill it?"  
  
"Nuh-uh."  
  
Lacey was growing tired of Daphne's monosyllabic answers and decided to snatch the other girl's source of distraction. A quick flash of motion and the dagger was in hand, twirling between her fingers. "Please respond with more than caveman grunts, Daph."  
  
The other girl's eyes watched the dagger closely, "They sent the vampire back to his home dimension."  
  
"Oh, well why's she pouting, then?"  
  
"She got punished."  
  
"For?"  
  
"Yelling at Mz. Buffy."  
  
Lacey's jaw dropped, "She _yelled_ at _Buffy Summers?_ "  
  
"Uh-huh, called her a hypocrite."


	5. Silence is Golden

** Never run further into the house/lair/graveyard… unless that's where you stash the weapons.  
(All rules in this chapter suggested by BLUEJELLO.) **

* * *

****"C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon_ …" Candice dashed through the graveyard, leaping over low-lying headstones and dodging the odd angel statue that loomed out of the dark. She could hear the soft sounds of small feet against damp earth and grass behind her, but luckily the ghouls weren't gaining. Yet.  
  
She dodged around another angel counting the crypts she passed, was it two from the middle or three? A glint of metal caught her eyes and she grinned, sprinting over to her source of hope and scrabbling with the loose bricks that covered one of the emergency caches. The feel of smooth steel and cool leather against her palms did wonders for her heart rate.  
  
"God, I love Andrew," she muttered, and turned to face the gibbering ghouls.

* * *

** Cellphones have a silent mode for a reason. **

* * *

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Corinne snarled as an old Britney Spears song started playing, alerting their prey and giving away their position in the rafters of the old barn-like structure. The assorted mix of demons and vampires looked up at the seven girls, perched precariously on the rotted wood and grinned identical, hungry, pointy-teethed grins.  
  
"Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry!" Tina apologized to her sister Slayer, fumbling anxiously with the 'off' button on her cellular. The girl was red-faced and so mortified that it would have been funny… were it not for the creatures below, awaiting them.  
  
"You think you're sorry now? Just wait until _you_ have to explain to the rest of the House why their cell phone privileges have been revoked for the next six months." Corinne smiled grimly at the gasps of horror and genuine fear from the other girls, "Yeah. Six months. I'm sick of this shit happening. And really, 'Hit Me Baby One More Time'?"  
  
"I was going for irony," the chastened Slayer muttered.  
  
Corinne rolled her eyes, "Heaven spare me from S.I.Ts who think they're W.I.Ts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SITs: Slayer in Training/ WITs: Watchers in Training.


	6. Dry-Clean Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you CRYSTALBLAZE for the "Pet Semetary" rule.

** No brain, no pain. **

* * *

****"That's… just… ew."  
  
Daphne scowled at Candice, "Just get the damn hose already."  
  
"Yeah, I will but… geez. What did you do? Put some baddies in a giant blender and then stand over it with the top off and turn it on high? I mean, you're _covered!_ Freakin' _soaked_ … and I can smell you from here."  
  
"Get the damn hose. _Now!_ "  
  
Candice grabbed the hose and turned it on, spraying Daphne down as thoroughly as possible. "Ew, and can I just say 'ew' again? You're totally killing the grass, you know. I realize that you like your knives, but there are cleaner ways to slay. Especially if you're dealing with zombies, you know? I myself prefer a nice axe, or a machete. Knives are _way_ too up close and personal," she rambled.  
  
"I get it, you don't like knives."  
  
"Oh, no! Knives have their place. Throwing knives are great."


	7. Rule #38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer in first chapter, rule by RNGRTHORNE.

** If you see a light outside, do NOT investigate alone. And never in a nightgown. **

* * *

****"What are you doing?"  
  
The two Slayers froze in their tracks at the voice of their Lieutenant. Tina and Antonia exchanged glances and then turned. Antonia stepped forward to speak as it was widely acknowledge that she was the more cerebral of the two.  
  
"We saw a weird red light outside our window."  
  
Lori quirked a brow, "And you were going to investigate?" Her folded arms and unimpressed expression told the two girls that they'd done something wrong, but they couldn't for the life of them figure out what it was.  
  
"Well, yeah." Tina frowned, "We have each other for backup, so we thought it'd be ok."  
  
"Toni, what's Rule #38?"  
  
"Rule #38… um," the girl bit her lip, thinking frantically.  
  
Lori smirked, "The 'aliens among us' rule."  
  
"Oh!" Tina's eyes lit up with realization and her hand – the one _not_ clutching a katana like it was her favorite teddy bear – gripped the edge of her oversized t-shirt in realization. "Never go hunting in pajamas. Shit!"  
  
The elder Slayer smiled, "Not exactly, but close enough. Go get changed and grab a couple of other girls. Two is fine, but four is better. Emma and Lacey have been itching for some action lately, anyways."  
  
"Isn't Emma still on punishment duty?" Toni asked curiously.  
  
"Till the end of the month, but we can let her out just this once – for good behavior."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks again RngrThorne! You will never know how much I wanted to turn this chapter into a "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" crossover. Seriously, the urge to throw in mashed-potato mountain sculptures and Richard Dreyfuss references was almost overwhelming...


	8. The rule of which we do not speak.

**The rule which we do not name (otherwise known as rule #42).**

* * *

“Why is Lori pouting on the couch instead of gearing up?” Tina asked curiously.  
  
Lacey flinched, “She can’t come with us.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“It would break the rule.”  
  
“ _Which_ rule?”  
  
“ _THE_ rule.”  
  
Tina stared at her grim-looking superior, unsure whether or not she wanted to push the older girl. She was new to the rules, having only been at Admiral Andrew’s Slayer retreat for a few days before shipping out to the Atlanta House. She and the other girls unlucky enough to only receive the rules second or third hand were trying desperately to catch up, but Andrew’s Rules had not yet been codified into the Handbook. They were too new, even if they did have the full support of Mr. Giles, Mz. Summers, and (rumor had it) Mz. Buffy.  
  
Lacey, seeing Tina’s turmoil, finally looked up from the stake she was giving a last, pre-excursion waxing. “Cadet, what do you notice about Lori’s current state?”  
  
Tina blinked, then turned to furtively study the other Slayer. “She’s wearing pajamas?”  
  
“No, not that.”  
  
“She doesn’t have a buddy?”  
  
“Not that either, c’mon – think!”  
  
Tina scowled, frustrated. Lori wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, she was just sitting on the couch, watching some TV (what looked like a Mel Brook’s comedy) and eating ice – oh. “She’s not sharing her ice cream… and no-one is trying to make her.”  
  
“And that means…?”  
  
Tina flushed, “She’d be putting out a scent trail that would drive all the vampires and other good sniffers back into their lairs for the next week.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
** Rule #42 (unabridged): Nobody wants to deal with a PMSing Slayer. NOBODY. **


End file.
